


Coming Clean

by Lenny9987



Series: Lenny's Imagine Claire and Jamie Prompts [4]
Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 3: Voyager, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-28 22:40:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6348526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenny9987/pseuds/Lenny9987
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Imagine Jamie/Claire telling Jenny and Ian why Claire *really* disappeared for 20 years</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Clean

**Author's Note:**

> In canon Jamie and Claire eventually tell Jenny, Ian, and the rest of the Murray clan about Claire’s unique abilities in An Echo in the Bone. Rather than imagine exactly how that explanation unfolded, I’ve come up with something set in Voyager soon after Claire’s return. Enjoy. - Lenny

Ian was quiet as they headed up the street in the direction of the print shop, the initial shock of seeing Claire again putting him in a contemplative mood. Jamie knew it had been a mistake to bring up his idea of having young Ian to live with him.

“I’m sorry about the lad,” Jamie reiterated. “I’ve had my hands a bit full the last day what wi’ Claire.”

“Aye well, yer hands are like to get fuller soon when it comes to Claire,” Ian snapped. “Or did ye already tell her about Laoghaire?”

Jamie went red in the face and looked away, fear and anger swelling within him. He fought to push them away with memories of her body fitted tight against his as they slept. It had been the first satisfying night’s rest he’d had in ages, despite spending very little of the night asleep instead holding her in his arms—present instead of always reaching for her. The knowledge that that one night might be all he had with her was both more than he’d hoped to have and not enough, sharpening the fear even as it quelled the anger.

“What I dinna understand is how ye could have married Laoghaire when there was a chance Claire had lived? I ken ye _thought_ she was dead—and perhaps ye had good reason to think so—but ye never thought to _look_ for her?” Ian asked, puzzling his way through Jamie’s actions.

“And _when_ was I supposed to look for her exactly?” Jamie countered. “Lord knows I had enough time on my hands in that cave, but I was a wee bit short of resources. Might have had more in prison but they kept me busier out on the moor cutting peat. And then there was Helwater where I couldna go by my own name, but oh, searching high and low for my wife should ha’ been easy there did I only think to do so.” Jamie’s thick and resentful sarcasm cut deep. He hadn’t realized Ian stopped several steps back and had to retrace his steps, an apology ready on his lips.

But Ian apologized first. “I’m sorry, Jamie. I ken how ye feel about Claire. If ye’d any hope of her being alive, ye’d have done everything in yer power to find her again.”

Jamie nodded but the guilt of lying to his best friend was gnawing at his gut. “And ye’re right too, about Laoghaire. I… I just dinna ken how to tell her about that. I’m afraid… I’m afraid it will prove too much for her and I’ll lose her again. I… _canna_ live through that again.”

Ian patted his friend on the shoulder sympathetically. “And she was in France the whole time?” he wondered, his disbelief—and doubt—evident.

Jamie swallowed. “She wasna in France,” he said quietly, then laughed. “Though, ye willna believe the truth were I to tell ye.”

Ian narrowed his eyes at Jamie, fixing him with a look Jamie was certain he’d be using again on young Ian when they finally found him. “Aye, it’s true I mayna believe ye… but ye’ll not know unless ye tell me anyhow.”

Jamie sighed, his gaze firmly on the ground as he explained. “D’ye ken the hill called Craigh na Dun? It has a circle of stones atop it.” He forced himself to meet his friend’s confused gaze—he _must_ look Ian in the eye for fear of being thought joking. Ian would see the sincerity there.

“Aye,” Ian nodded. “The fairy hill.” His eyebrows rose as he struggled for composure. “Ye mean to tell me Claire is… a fairy? One of the auld ones? I mean… I ken there’s some as call her a witch but…”

“I dinna ken what it is allows her to… She came through the stones… The day I met her was the first time,” Jamie bumbled through his explanation.

“How d’ye mean ‘through’ the stones? Walked across the circle?”

“No, and I dinna ken how to explain it exactly only that she… fades when she touches them—goes back to the time she came from.”

“Time?”

“Aye… Claire is from a different time.” Jamie’s voice was quiet and he’d moved closer to Ian, his head inclined towards him to keep what they were saying from being overheard. “She’s from… a future time. Ye ken how the tales always speak of two hundred years? For her it’s actually been two hundred two.”

Ian’s brow was furrowed as he grappled with what Jamie said. Glancing about, Jamie spotted an empty space between two buildings and pulled his friend towards it, Ian following reluctantly and squeezing into the space ahead of Jamie. With Jamie’s back blocking them from the street, he reached into his jacket and pulled out the small packet of photographs Claire had given him, carefully unwrapping them from the transparent protective pouch and putting them into Ian’s hands.

“What’re these?” Ian asked, unsure what to make of what he’d been handed.

“Those are called _photographs_. Claire brought them with her. They’re… portraits of sorts. That…” he said, pointing with pride to the images of an infant, “tha’s my daughter—mine and Claire’s. Brianna.” He helped Ian shuffle through a few more until they got to Jamie’s favorite—the first of the colorful ones with Brianna and the dog. Ian started and laughed.

“Aye well, anyone wi’ eyes can see she’s yers,” Ian admitted.

“Claire kent what would happen with the Rising. When we were in France before… we tried to stop it but only got ourselves caught up in it instead. She kent it would end at Culloden… It was too dangerous for her to stay and her being wi’ child… I _made_ her go back… For her sake and the bairn’s.” His voice was thick with emotion as he recalled the day he’d sent his pregnant wife to an unknown future, his only certainty being that she would be safer going than staying with him.

Ian cleared his throat delicately and gave the stack of _photographs_ back to Jamie who was meticulous as he rewrapped them.

“Well… I see now why ye… Well… Ye’ll have a time of it wi’ Laoghaire, and no mistake. But if Claire went to all the trouble of finding you again, she’ll maybe be willing to let ye tell yer side of things. It’s a might more believable than her traveling through time,” Ian said with a laugh.

It relaxed Jamie to find Ian comfortable enough with the revelation of Claire’s origins to make light of them, though he was no more certain how to approach the question of Laoghaire.

“Let’s go find that son of yers,” Jamie suggested, tucking the packet of photos back into his jacket. “Maybe I’ll find inspiration along the way.”

*          *          *

Jamie was still feverish but sleeping comfortably after Claire administered his latest dose of penicillin. She fussed with the linens while she watched him for a few more minutes before she heard Jenny passing through and peeking in on them. She was gone again before Claire could find her in the dim light of the room but Claire was quick to her feet and her longer stride had her caught up to Jenny in no time.

“Outside,” Jenny instructed, apparently aware of what was coming. “In the barn.”

With a terse nod, Claire followed her sister-in-law out through the brisk pre-dawn to the barn where Jenny grabbed a pail from its nail and a short stool to set about the milking.

“Out wi’ it then,” Jenny prodded, setting herself up for the task.

“Laoghaire,” Claire hissed.

“Is it that I was able to talk him into marrying her to begin with or are ye referring to fetching her here?” Jenny sought to clarify.

“Both,” Claire huffed, “but fetching her here primarily.”

“Jamie ought to’ve told you.”

“He should have,” Claire agreed, surprising Jenny enough for her to look back at Claire over her shoulder. “But that is between him and I. It wasn’t your place to send for her like that. You did it for spite.”

“Damn right I did,” Jenny laughed.

“Why? What did I do to you to make you so angry with me?”

“Ye left,” Jenny answered sharply, her hands stilling on the cow’s teat.

“I believed Jamie was dead,” Claire explained. “It was… chance that I heard word of him and luck that it proved to actually be him I heard of at all.”

“Aye, I believe ye about that.”

“Then why—”

“Were the rest of us not yer kin too?” Jenny asked, pushing herself to her feet quickly and nearly upsetting the pail of milk as she turned to face Claire. “Ye ken full well ye would have been welcome here at Lallybroch—it was yer place as much as it was Jamie’s.”

“It was too dangerous for me to come here,” Claire said, blinking in surprise at the intensity of Jenny’s fury.

“Right away, sure. But it’s been twenty years, Claire. Is France so far away that ye couldna even write to tell us ye were alive? Did ye think I’d no want to meet my brother’s daughter? That I wouldna welcome the pair of ye into my home?” There were angry tears streaming down Jenny’s cheeks. She brushed them away with the back of her hand as though their presence offended her.

“I… I _couldn’t_ come back, Jenny,” Claire emphasized, wishing she could just tell Jenny the whole truth.

“Oh, ye couldn’t? Couldn’t bear it without Jamie?” Jenny closed her eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry. I… I can understand why… why it wouldna be easy for ye to come wi’out him… but to no even send word? Claire… ye’re the only sister I’ve ever had. Jamie… losing ye… It near destroyed him… but he wasna the only one that lost ye. And to find that all this time ye were in _France_ …” She was shaking her head, her anger having faded to expose the lingering hurt she felt.

“I… I wasn’t in France,” Claire confessed.

Jenny crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow, the hurt disappearing again as confusion and ready anger competed beneath the mask she adopted. “Not in France? D’ye mean to tell me ye fled all the way to the colonies?”

Claire sighed and fidgeted. “Not the colonies _exactly_. I was in the nation they’ll become.”

Jenny’s gaze narrowed and Claire hurried through an explanation, praying Jenny would believe her.

“There’s a hill called Craigh na Dun with a circle of stones. A… like a fairy hill.”

“Ye’re trying to tell me ye’re a fairy? Well,” she shifted her arms so that her hands rested on her hips, “I suppose a fairy is better than being a witch.”

“I’m neither,” Claire said with a roll of her eyes. “What I am is… I’m not sure what I am, actually. But I can travel through time when I touch the stones atop that hill. I’m not from this century—I’m originally from two hundred years in the future.”

“The future?”

“Yes. I was on holiday in the area in 1945 when I first passed through the stones. That was when I first met Jamie. I didn’t know, at first, if I could even get back. After a while… I didn’t want to. But… I knew what was coming—the Rising, Culloden. When we couldn’t stop it… Jamie asked me to go back. It was safer for me there… more so because I was pregnant.” She paused and took a deep breath. “After what happened in France… with Faith… the risk of staying and giving birth here… It was dangerous in my own time with medical advancements the likes of which—I still might’ve died.”

“Ye honestly expect me to believe ye’re from two hundred years in the future?” Jenny’s skepticism didn’t ring as true as she might have hoped.

“Maybe not by my word alone,” Claire admitted. “But Jamie has pictures of our daughter that I brought from my time… and here,” she said, fumbling in the deep pocket of her dress for the small case there, pulling it out and bringing it closer to the light for Jenny to see. “In my time I’m a surgeon—a physician with special tools to heal people internally. These are some of the things I brought with me. This is what’s curing Jamie of the infection and fever from the gunshot wound.” She held aloft the small bottle with the penicillin pills and tilted the case so the light gleamed off of the hypodermic syringes. “I dissolve one of those in a vial of sterile water and inject it into him. They contain an antibiotic that won’t be discovered for more than a hundred years yet.”

She spoke with such conviction, Jenny had to pause and consider what Claire said carefully—the little of it she understood at least.

“Ye ken what’s going to happen…” Jenny said with tentative belief. “When… when ye told me to plant the potatoes…”

“I knew there would be difficult times after the Rising failed. From what I remembered of my history… potatoes became a staple of the Scottish diet during that time. I was trying to help,” she muttered at the end, as she packed the kit away again.

“I saw ye… when they married. I saw—I thought it was yer fetch—standing there at Jamie’s side…” Jenny said quietly, the sudden shift in her tone causing Claire to look up at her with surprise.

“I thought Jamie died at Culloden. I couldn’t bear to look and be sure,” Claire said as she tucked the kit back into the pocket of her dress. “I finally decided that I had to see if he’d succeeded in saving the men he’d brought to Culloden with him—he’d instructed them to slip away before the battle started. I had to see if he’d managed that. It was someone else who discovered that Jamie had survived and after I knew that… I had to know what happened to him. If there was a chance that he was still… And then there he was.”

“So ye came back.”

“Yes.”

Jenny nodded then bent to lift the milk pail.

“And ye said Jamie has something from ye to do with yer daughter?”

Claire smiled at the thought of Brianna even as she ached for her. “Yes. Brianna Ellen though she goes by Bree mostly. I’ll fetch them to show you when there’s a minute,” Claire promised.

“Thank ye,” Jenny said as she carried the pail on to the next cow. “And Claire,” she paused in her task, “I’m sorry… about Laoghaire—for both reasons. I thought she’d ease his missing ye but I kent at the last it wasna right… and I did naught to stop it.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Claire apologized. “For not telling you the truth sooner… and for leaving you all the way I did… for not looking back sooner.”

“I’ve missed ye, Claire.” Jenny nodded her acceptance of Claire’s apology.

Claire smiled in return. “I’ve missed you, too, Jenny.”

“Tell me when ye next need to stick Jamie wi’ that wee needle of yourn. I’d like to see how ye manage that,” Jenny quipped as she set the milk pail on the floor beneath the next cow and positioned her stool.


End file.
